With A Kiss, You Will Awaken
by Princess Sammi
Summary: My sort-of-alternate-kind-of-take on The Uninvited episode.


**Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch.**

 **A/N: Hey, folks! I had this idea a few months ago ( when I was en-route to and from London to see the wonderful Ms Kate Duchêne in her newest play and also Matilda The Musical (Beyond all levels of epic!) but, finally, I hast found the time and the inspiration to sit down and write it!**

 **The title comes from The Pierce's song 'You'll Be Mine', which also provided some inspiration as did 'The Uninvited' episode of The Worst Witch.**

* * *

 **With A Kiss, You Will Awaken**

 ** _"All within shall sleep forever…forever…"_**

The wand spun round, whirring in a maniacal glee, covering the chanting mistress in a cobweb-like substance, the dark magic within slowly sending her into a deep sleep. The hag revelled in her havoc as she prepared to send the entire castle into a permanent state of hibernation. Oh, yes… they would regret not inviting her.

"I think not."

Wondering who had the gall to dare interrupt her, she turned around, only to be confronted by the tall sorceress. Though she did not show it, for the first time since escaping from that blasted book, the old wretch was slightly intimidated. Instantly, she could sense that the woman who was standing before her was going to be a problem; the power radiated from her.

What the lord had giveth though, could be taken away just as easily…precious thing was life.

"Ah, one of her good fairy friends," the uninvited guest simpered, her falsely sweet tone sending flashes of memory through the mind of the powerful witch, the sickeningly pretend niceness covering the underlying evil within, serving only to remind her of her time under the tutelage of Heckitty Broomhead.

'Focus, Constance. Now is not the time'.

She knew that she had a duty of care. She was the tower of strength and pillar of reassurance they all looked to in terms of danger. It was down to her to keep the academy and those in it safe. The girls and her colleagues: Amelia, Davina and Imogen.

As the thought of Imogen crossed her mind, she could have broken down in howling sobs right there and then. Not so long ago, everything had been so wonderful and the witch had been more content than she had in a long, long time. In fact, dare she say, she was happy. She was blissfully happy as she had lay curled up next to Imogen, the pair stealing odd kisses every so often, the past few months having opened up a whole new world to her but, now, it had all fallen apart and all it had taken was three words.

Three words, eight letters.

She didn't understand.

How could anyone love something that wasn't worthy of being loved?

Little Connie had felt special, one upon a time, surrounded by her doting parents and older brother. Little Connie had felt wanted, but that little girl quickly grew into Constance and Constance certainly hadn't felt special nor wanted. Constance had tried not to listen but heartbreak after heartbreak had led her to the conclusion that maybe her tyrannical tutor had been right all along. It was that knowledge and that pain that caused her heart to freeze, overtime turning it to ice; glistening and beautiful to look at but not a surface you want to break.

Over the years, she had resigned herself to her role: some in life were cast as the princesses of the fairytales and others as the villains. Outer appearances had cast her as the Evil Queen (she did have a penchant for apples but still…) and there was no changing that.

What was done was done.

Now, she had nothing, nothing but guilt and the knowledge that she had let her own fears destroy her only chance for happiness.

Though on the inside she was in bits, she remained completely impassive on the outside, coolly retorting to the uninvited's statement, "If you like."

"You seem to have problems staying asleep," the hag teased, "Well this time, I shall send you to your death!"

A stream of magic erupted from the gun-like wand. Shaking it off, Constance launched her own counter attack, sending bolts of magic straight at her adversary but to no avail; the old hag shook them all off with an almost laughable ease. The battle raged on: two lots of magic colliding in the air; both fighting to win.

Constance, having fully underestimated the power of the other woman, gasped as the spell slammed into her. She knew she couldn't hold out much longer, each strand of magic gaining a stronger momentum on her with each second that ticked past. She could feel as her muscles itching to give in and just bow to the sheer exhaustion that was rapidly creeping over her. She was so tired, so very tired… all she wanted was to close her eyes for just a little while.

'No!'

Still, the uninvited pushed on with her attack, her latest efforts forcing the mighty witch onto her knees, gleefully laughing at the predicament the sorceress was in, her voice was lost in the haze that was currently spinning like a tornado in the deputy's mind.

Her porcelain hand gripped the back of the wooden chair, holding on for dear life as a cold sweat crept over her brow. She struggled to breath, each breathe coming in shorter and shallower gasps as she desperately tried to force the dwindling atoms of oxygen to her brain and keep her rapidly weakening hold on consciousness.

 _"Ah, the princess herself! I knew they were hiding you from me! Time to prick your little finger and go bye-bye."_

 _"Time to go back between the pages of the book. Back to the Sleeping Beauty, where you belong!"_

She was mildly aware of the faint voices around her before everything went dark.

* * *

"Where's Miss Hardbroom? I need to speak with her." Both women had been avoiding a proper conversation for days now and Imogen had had enough.

The blonde was unsure whether the two women had even heard her. It didn't seem as though they had as neither acknowledged her presence as she had entered the library and neither made any attempts to answer her question.

They did, however, share a glance with one another and the look Imogen caught between them sent ice coursing through her veins, dread and fear washing over her again and again. Something was very wrong.

It was silent. Too silent.

Eventually, the headmistress spoke up, her voice breaking through the stifling silence.

"She's asleep," she answered truthfully.

"What, you mean you've finally managed to wrestle the wide awake potion from her," she joked, her laugh sticking in her throat as soon as it began. She didn't know why but she suddenly felt sick.

"No, dear," Amelia Cackle removed her glasses, the weary strain of the past few hours evident on her face and in her bloodshot eyes. "She- she was hit with a-a sleeping curse."

"A sleeping curse?! What? How? …is she okay?"

"It was that hag!"

"Broomhead?"

"No," Lavinia Crotchet explained the events that had transpired in the few hours the younger woman had been out of the school. Her explanation was brief and baffling: "The girls stole the Mythiocopia to conjure a unicorn and save Mildred and Jadu from being expelled but there was a page missing and they brought this old witch to life instead. She was going on and on about how she wasn't invited to the Christening and so sent everyone in the school to sleep. Constance fought her. Prince Percy woke everyone up but the second time the damage was too strong. She won't wake, Imogen…she may never wake."

Mythiocopia?

A Unicorn?

A Prince?

What exactly had been going on in her absence? Her mind was in overdrive and as she processed exactly what the chanting mistress had said, she felt her blood run cold _'_

 _She may never wake'._

"True love's kiss. That's what she needs."

"Now is not the time for flights of fantasy, Lavinia! We need a plan! Or a miracle! " The headmistress snapped, causing the other staff members to flinch, unused to such a harsh tone coming from the usually gentle head of the school. "I'm sorry, Lavinia, I didn't mean to yell, I know you were only trying to help. I - just- she's like a daughter to me, I couldn't bear it if...there must be something in one of these books that can help us. We owe her this!"

"Where is she?"

"In her room, but Imo-"

The rest of the sentence went unheard as Imogen sped off in the direction of the West Tower, taking the stairs two at a time, her heart breaking at that thought of losing the sorceress forever.

* * *

 _'She may never wake.'_

 _'She may never wake.'_

 _'She may never wake.'_

The words reverberated in her mind, getting louder and louder as she ran down the corridor. She didn't want to believe it. She had to see for herself.

Cautiously, she opened the door to the older woman's chambers, fully expecting to be blasted to smithereens or receive a long tirade about the dangers of invading privacy, but there was nothing. The witch was lain out on the bed, her long dark Rapunzel-like hair fanned out behind her. To the untrained eye, she appeared to be merely sleeping but, having been around it for long enough; Imogen could feel the strong pull of magic in the air. Dark magic at that.

Imogen had always found her to be beautiful, but at this moment, despite the life-threatening circumstances, she was captivating, especially the way the sunlight streamed across her face.

Pulling over the chair from the small dressing table in the corner, the blonde sat down next to the sleeping beauty and gently took her hand, "I, um…hi, "

She wasn't sure what else to say. What was anyone supposed to say in these circumstances?

"I'm sorry, Constance. I shouldn't have told you that I- well, I shouldn't have said what I did but we'd had such a wonderful afternoon and it just slipped out. Maybe if you weren't so mad at me, you wouldn't have," She broke off, choking back a sob, "God, this is ridiculous," I don't even know if you can hear me!"

A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by the ticking from the clock. The blonde tightened her hold on the brunette's hand, finally finding some inner courage.

"Actually, I take it back. I'm not sorry. Yes, I told you that I loved you but I never had a chance to tell you why. Maybe if I tell you why I said it, you'll understand that I meant it. That I mean it! I love so many things about you. I love you because you are forever interrupting me, seriously, I don't think I've gotten a single sentence out without you cutting across me, but you just get so caught up in the situation, that's the second reason too. I love how passionate you get about things, yes, about magic, but even about all the little insignificant things that no-one else would ever think to consider. I love how you always put everyone else before yourself, it doesn't matter what it might do to you as long as they're okay…"

She continued on with her list, listing each and every reason that she was in love with such a magnificent woman. She was nearing the end now but she even she was surprised at how long it actually was.

"I love when you let me play with your hair because I know you don't let anyone else do that so it makes me feel so special, oh, I love that thing we would do…in bed, where you…" feeling the blush creep into her own skin, she whispered the rest of the sentence into the brunette's ear, convinced she felt a squeeze of her hand in return.

Wiping the tears from her eyes with her free hand, she spoke. "We'll bring you back. Somehow. And we'll fix it. I promise. Hold on...please, Constance. Hold on for those who love you…hold on for me. "

With her piece said, Imogen stood from the chair, and placed a gentle yet meaningful kiss on the lips of the sleeping witch. For a moment, there was nothing, then, suddenly, a light appeared, and it seemed to glow around the pair of them, illuminating the whole room before it dissipated into the ether, leaving everything as it was.

Imogen watched, with baited breath, unable to believe what her senses were telling her as the long eyelashes slowly fluttered open, revealing the dark brown eyes Imogen had feared she would never see again.

Confused, Constance looked around her room before turning her attention back the blonde in front of her.

"Immy?" she whispered softly.

* * *

"And then what happened, Mummy?"

The small voice startled her, breaking into her thoughts and bringing her back to reality. As she looked at her daughter's eager eyes, Imogen blushed: she had gotten so caught up in the telling of her story she had forgotten why she began telling it in the first place.

"Mummy?"

"Mummy?"

"Fine then, don't tell me. I don't want to know anyway." To prove that she was indeed serious Matilda Hardbroom-Drill turned away from her mummy, crossed her arms and demonstrated her best pout. Struggling to suppress her laughter, the PE teacher wished she had a camera handy so she could capture the further proof – not that anymore was needed - that Matilda really was in every way her other Mama's daughter.

Speaking of her other Mama, Imogen stole a glance at her beautiful wife who was curled up on her side, fast asleep, her hand protectively cradling her growing bump. Every time she looked at her, it took her breath away. Every time she looked at all of them, she felt so truly blessed. Reaching out, she gently placed a soft kiss on her love's lips and another on the baby bump before she turned her attention back to their daughter, who was currently doing a very impressive imitation of her Mama's trademark glare, if the reflection in the mirror was anything to go by.

"Well-" Imogen began but she was soon cut off.

"-Your Mummy woke me and the baba up so I had to turn her into a frog."

Though she playfully waggled her spell-casting fingers, Constance was not letting on that she was half-serious with her threat. This pregnancy had all but wiped her out and while she had worked right up until the end with Matilda, this time she had been ordered onto bed rest from very early on. Though she was bored out of her mind, if it kept their baby safe and their family together, that was all that really mattered.

For someone who had once been told that she was not worthy of love, she was now surrounded by so much of it, and every time she looked at her wife, child and felt a kick from the new life growing inside her, she could have cried from sheer happiness.

"Sorry, darling," Imogen guiltily apologised to her better half, feeling awful for having disrupted her sleep.

"Mama?"

"Yes, Tilly."

"If you turn Mummy into a froggy, you have to kiss her!"

"What makes you say that, Princess?"

"It says in my book that true love's kiss can break any curse. So, you have to kiss the froggy to make her Mummy again. Mama and a froggy, sitting in a tree..."

By this point, tears of laughter were streaming down Imogen's face as she tried – and failed – to compose herself. "You have to admit. She's got you there," she managed to force the words out in between sniggering.

"Hmm.." was all Constance said, though she herself was thoroughly amused by the six year olds thought process, the smile on her face saying more than any words ever could. "Now, missy, it's getting past your bedtime and you did agree to go after you had a story.

"Yes, Mama," she answered quietly, rubbing her eyes and picking up Flopsy the bunny rabbit who had been keeping her Mama company while she was asleep.

Adjusting her position, Constance opened her arms and her daughter crawled into the embrace, her wife soon following suit. If anyone was to look in on them at that moment, they would see a perfect family snapshot.

"Mummy?"

"Yes, pet?"

"How did the story end?"

"Well, Till's, they all lived happily ever after."

* * *

 **~ The End ~**

* * *

 **A/N: Something a little bit different from moi, yes, but I've been trying to write this for a few months now and it was fun to write. Also, if Dreamsinlilac is reading this, I hope you don't mind me borrowing your Mama/Mummy concept but I had to find a way to differentiate between the pair. :)**


End file.
